Dawnsinger

by Janalyn Voigt

  “The end of your journey.” His kiss was violent this time, tearing at the roots of her being. She whimpered but just managed to curl into a hiding place in her inner being.

  Freaer groaned and put her from him. “I should have given you more time.”

  She shook her head. “This is very wrong. I want to go back to my chambers.”

  “Through the downpour?”

  She took a shaky breath. “Better the rain than this.”

  His lips smiled, but his face looked bleak. “How you flatter me.”

  She could say nothing as she stepped out of the puddle formed of droplets from their clothing.

  Freaer sighed. “All right, Shae, I’ll give you time.” He reached for the lamp, and it swung in his hand. She saw then what lay hidden in the shadows, a bed of furs. Freaer steadied the lamp and tilted his head. “But know this—I won’t wait long.”

  She jerked her gaze from his and caught sight of droplets of moisture streaming down the smooth stone wall behind him. Teardrops on a tender cheek?

  As the chill penetrated her cloak, she shivered and pushed away the strange fancy. “What place is this?”

  He lifted the lamp, and the movement raised grotesque shadows. “We stand in a sallyport, a hidden gateway in the curtain wall that leads through the motte. It was built to provide escape from the hold, or access to it, in time of war, but few remember this place of secrets.”

  Secrets. The word hissed in Shae’s mind.

  “Why bring me here?”

  His mouth quirked. A feather-light touch brushed her soul and withdrew. She pictured the bed of furs. He’d meant to lie with her tonight. Mother had told her of such goings on between a man and woman, but within marriage. Not like this. “You will meet me here, Shae, when the time is right. Our souls have touched.”

  “You? That was you? But I felt two souls.”

  He shook his head, his hair gleaming in the lantern light. “I am only one soul, but with many sides.”

  She stared at him, remembering. “You terrified me.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t always control it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He looked at her, his eyes shadowed. “You will come to trust our bond.”

  “Our bond?”

  “You cannot deny we are joined.”

  “No!” she cried, and then, “Yes! What binds us?”

  He touched her face, and her knees went weak. “Can’t you guess?”

  She stepped away. “A fool trusts another who answers with a question.”

  Freaer threw back his head and laughed. “Another ancient saying? Your words prick like thorns that guard a tender rose.” He caught her hand and carried it to his lips. “Never mind, sweet flower. A few scratches won’t turn me aside. But I’ve promised to wait, and I shall. Come.”

  She hesitated, but took the hand he extended. His fingers curled around hers, lending warmth. Light from the lamp rushed ahead to show the way out of shelter and into the storm. As they crossed the bailey, wind snatched her breath away and rain slapped her face.

  Freaer flung open the keep’s side door and pulled her into the corridor.

  Shae pushed back her hood and shook her hair free, blinking rain from her lashes. The corridor lay mantled in the stillness of deep night. The torches flared, then guttered and hissed, on the verge of extinguishing. Her stomach knotted. How long had she been gone? “I must return to my room! I never meant to leave for so long. What if someone looks for me?”

  He gave her a light shake. “Peace, be still. Think of the worst that could happen in that event.”

  Her mind reeled at the suggestion.

  His smile steadied her. “You’d have to wed me, of course. Would that be so terrible?”

  She stared at him, unable to answer, taken by the memory of Kai in her mirror. ‘Just let it die.’

  Freaer accompanied her up a flight of darkened stairs and down a silent corridor. She sighed when they reached her chamber door, relieved they’d met no one and that the night’s adventures were over. A pang went through her. What had she gotten herself into this time? Why had she promised Maeven she would learn to behave, only to break her word at once? She meant to prove herself to Maeven and if she could bear the truth, Kai—but she seemed incapable of following her best intentions.

  Freaer caught Shae’s wrist when she would turn away. “You look weary. Make an excuse to lie abed tomorrow.”

  She shook her head and spoke to the image of Kai, which would not leave her. “I deserve to suffer for my recklessness.”

  Freaer’s lips curved. He put a hand to her cheek, and his gaze probed her face.

  Heaviness settled over her. She must pull away, get away. There was more here than she knew.

  The door to her chamber opened and there, as if her thoughts had summoned him, stood Kai. “Shae! Are you well?” His voice carried an edge. Firelight spilled over him, revealing an alertness she’d seen in him once before—when he faced the messengers at the White Feather Inn.

  Freaer must have noticed it, too, for he stepped away from her. She registered this almost as an aside, her whole attention given to Kai. A heedless impulse to run to Kai and shelter in his embrace shook her, but such a move would find no welcome. Something had shifted between Kai and herself, and she feared they could never go back to what had once been.

  “I am well,” she answered as she brushed past him, not altogether certain she spoke truth. Something had also shifted between Freaer and herself.

  ****

  Kai’s gaze locked with Freaer’s. He stepped into the corridor and shut Shae’s outer door. “Leave…Shae….alone.”

  Freaer strode toward him, drawing a quick response from Kai’s nerves. “How come you to tell me this? You wrong me. I found your sister wandering in the storm and brought her again to safety.”

  Kai hesitated. Shae did have a tendency to stray into trouble, but something rang false in Freaer’s assertions. “Thank you, but I expect you will not approach Shae further.”

  Freaer stood his ground. He seemed, by some trick of torchlight or imagination, to grow in stature, and the hair on the back of Kai’s neck stood on end. Time seemed to expand and contract.

  “I will follow Shae’s wishes in the matter.” Freaer turned away with a curt nod.

  “I’ll thank you to keep Shae’s honor. Speak of this night’s events to no one.”

  Freaer turned back with a faint smile. “Would that Shae had your concern for her honor.”

  Although his hands balled into fists, Kai kept hold of his temper. “I will see she does.”

  Kai returned to Shae’s outer chamber and bolted the door. Leaning against its solid wood, he breathed in quick gasps. What had just happened? Something uncanny had wended its way into that corridor to wound his spirit. Even now, shut behind a locked door and embraced by the comfort of fire and hearth, he did not feel quite safe.

  11

  Place of Prayer

  Shae threw open the shutters. Moonlight flooded the room, washing into a pool at her feet. Drafts lifted her hair, their chill a marked contrast to the feverish thoughts that kept her from sleep. The world below lay in savage beauty. She recalled the pastoral setting she’d once imagined surrounded Torindan and smiled.

  The rain had ceased, taking with it the clouds. Jagged peaks stood in relief, and the full moon, glaring white against a pewter sky, made spider’s webs of weaving shadows. Silver edged the eastern horizon like a whispered promise.

  When she could tolerate the cold no longer, she reached for the shutters but paused and scanned the horizon. Had she seen…? Yes, there—darker shapes against the sky resolved into two wingabeasts with riders. They approached from the west and landed within the outer bailey, passing from view.

  A wave of energy hit Shae with such force it brought her to her knees. Anger, excitement, and triumph rushed headlong through her. Another soul clung to hers like a parasite. As she fought to breathe, Freaer’s words came in memory. I’m
sorry. I can’t always control it. Swept before a force she neither knew nor understood, she floundered, eroded by the strange tide engulfing her.

  ****

  Leaning forward in his chair, Craelin steepled his hands and rested his forehead on them. “Traitors flew wingabeasts on some foul mission last night.”

  “You’re sure?” But Kai asked without hope.

  Guaron, across from Craelin on the bench in the main guardroom, nodded, his straw-colored hair swaying. With one finger he tapped the cleft in his chin. “I know the wingabeasts well. Two of the blacks, Saethril and Morgraen, journeyed far in the night, I’ll swear. They showed signs of fatigue, and their coats bore flecks of sweat this morning. Whoever rode them either grows careless or lacked time to cool them down.”

  Craelin narrowed his eyes. “Did you see or hear anything?”

  Guaron considered the question, and then nodded. “I can’t say I did.”

  “You’re sure? Think back.”

  Guaron obeyed, with the same result.

  “Thank you.” Craelin said in a defeated voice. “Pray advise us should you find anything more.”

  “I will.” The door shut behind Guaron.

  “By Timraen’s grave!” Craelin slapped his hand on the rough wood of the table. “We will get to the bottom of this!”

  Kai narrowed his eyes. “Our decision not to increase security for the stables seems a poor one now. But time may bear us out.”

  Craelin shook his head. “I fear time will only teach us more of last night’s evil.”

  ****

  Light descended like a benediction from stained glass windows that reached toward a vaulted ceiling. Shae paused in its rear archway and took in the splendor of Torindan’s Allerstaed. How unlike Whellein it seemed. No dust intruded, and no grime marred the glowing panes repeating beneath arches down either side of the building. Even the silence seemed inhabited—more a pause than a period.

  Shae stepped into the sanctuary, her slippered feet making little noise on the floor of polished strongwood. “Oh, Lof Yuel, I’ve been such a fool.” She whispered the words, and then fell silent. What more could she add? That she had broken her word to Maeven and alienated her brother? That she’d disregarded both honor and integrity? That she suspected Kai and Freaer might yet come to violence on her account?

  She reached the golden railing at the foot of the altar, knelt, and bowed her head. “I should never have left my chamber during the storm, except to come here. Oh why couldn’t I have come here?” Her tears flowed, silent and solemn. She wished with all her heart she had not added to Kai’s burdens by her rash behavior. She regretted, not for the first time, that she didn’t better resemble her more obedient twin. Katera would never find herself in such a position. Tears fell to bathe her clasped hands.

  “And so I find you.”

  Kai stood silhouetted in the rear archway

  Shae came to her feet. “Why are you here? Chaeldra said you would be in a meeting all the morn.”

  He sighed. “So much remains obvious. Why does it surprise me when you ignore my wishes? I asked you to remain in your chambers until I came for you.”

  “You can’t have meant to deny me the Place of Prayer.”

  “I would rather find you here than…elsewhere. I meant only to keep you safe until we could speak.”

  “Safe?”

  He stepped toward her. “You met no one on your way here? Spoke with none?”

  She found her voice with difficulty. “What makes you ask?”

  He paced from light to shadow and then back into light as he crossed beneath one of the high windows. “Freaer and I came to…an agreement. He will not speak of what happened. But others helped search for you in the night—Craelin and a few of the guardians. They heard a tale I devised. I wanted you to know of it before you speak with anyone.” He stopped before her, his voice crisp. “Now tell me, Shae—did you or did you not encounter anyone?”

  She hesitated, and then spoke with truth. “I met no one on the way here.”

  “That’s well then.”

  She crossed her arms over herself. “Am I forgiven?”

  “Always, Shae, but I’d rather, for both our sakes, you had no cause to ask.” With a hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face to the light. “Do you weep?”

  His gentle tone unsettled her. She had expected harshness. She should tell him how wretched she felt about the mess she’d created. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. “Mine are selfish tears,” she said instead. “You shouldn’t regard them. What tale have you given Craelin and the others?”

  He stepped away. “I’ve explained that your foot pained you in the night and, loath to wake your servant, you left your chamber to find me, only to become lost.”

  Shae shuddered at such lies spoken in the Allerstaed. Did all secrets start with lies? Did lies feed them until they grew into dragons ready to devour their creators? “What if we told the truth?”

  He shrugged. “Your reputation would suffer, and you might have to wed Freaer to still gossip.” The words fell, each a weight, to lie like stones between them.

  Heat rose in her cheeks as she recalled what Freaer had said. Think of the worst that could happen. You’d have to wed me. The prospect hadn’t daunted him, but it troubled her. She couldn’t deny the depth of her fascination with Freaer. Neither could she overlook the confusion she felt in his presence. Would a union with Freaer bring joy or would it, indeed, be the worst that could happen?

  Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Put the thought from your mind!”

  She bristled at his tone, although she tended to agree with him. “Why should I? At least I would then keep Whellein’s honor.”

  He shook his head. “You are not for Freaer.”

  She eyed him. “You speak as one who knows my future?” The words, meant as a challenge, came out a question.

  “I do, at least a little.”

  “And do you not think such knowledge would interest me?”

  “I’m sure it would.” He turned away.

  “Wait!” She caught his arm but he didn’t turn back to her. “Look at me! You speak in riddles and tell me nothing. Am I only a duty to you? Can’t you see I need more? I need to know, to understand—”

  “Peace, be still.” He shook free of her grasp. “Love is not duty, but you know not what you ask.”

  Hypnotized by the play of emotions across his face, Shae stared at Kai. Stepping backward against the prayer rail, she put out a hand and found the comfort of its smooth wood.

  “All right, I’ll tell you. By all that’s holy, I’ve wanted to often enough. Only answer this and I will speak: Are you certain you want to know?”

  Her intake of breath rasped in the silence. She’d never imagined Kai would give in to her demands. Now that he had, she hesitated, less certain she should abandon the shield of ignorance, however flimsy it might be. She pressed her hand against a bud of fear blossoming in her stomach. The gleam in Kai’s eyes told her he read her heart, and she bent her head with the knowledge of defeat.

  “I didn’t think so.” His words, although tender, jarred. “Nor should I have offered. Such a right belongs to another.”

  “Go, then.” She could have stood before his censure, but his gentleness unraveled her. “Leave me alone to pray.”

  “I’ll wait to escort you to the Lof Raelein’s chambers when you finish.”

  “I can find my own way.”

  “Shae, you must take better thought for yourself. Elcon told me about your meeting with him in the inner garden. Promise me you’ll stop going about alone. There’s no need since the Lof Raelein has given you a maid. The freedom allowed you at Whellein has hindered your grasp of decorum or even prudence. But you are no longer in Whellein. You speak of leaving childhood behind, yet conduct yourself with the carelessness of a child. You must stop getting into adventures.”

  Such a lecture from one who had rescued her from many adventures without complaint made Shae
blink back tears. Her fingers cramped around the prayer rail. She let go and stretched them, and then lifted her head with dignity. “As you wish.”

  A scuffling came from the darkness behind carved marble pillars in a darkened side passageway, and Shae’s heart pounded.

  Kai took on the watchfulness she now recognized. “Come out!”

  “Very well.” Elcon, wearing a surcoat of blue and gold over a rumpled tunic, stepped from behind a pillar.

  “You!” Shae forgot her manners in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  The smudges beneath his eyes made their light green color stand out. “Trying to avoid embarrassing you.”

  “I—I—you startled us.” Heat crept up her neck, and she bowed her head. “Lof Frael.” She flashed a glance at him. He wore weariness like a mantle. Had he spent the whole night watching over his mother?

  A fleeting smile touched his mouth. “I came to offer prayers but seem to have entered at an…awkward time. You and Kai were…preoccupied and failed to hear the side door.”

  Her face warmed further, and she cast back over her conversation with Kai. “How long did you hide there?”

  “Not long. I learned little I did not already know, except that Kai can lose his patience.”

  She attempted a smile. “I suppose we all can. I’ve tested his fortitude often enough.”

  He gave a bark of laughter. “You do Kai a service. I’ve often thought him too perfect. Mother held him up to me as an example in my early days.”

  She smiled with true warmth. “Mine did the same.”

  Kai rubbed his chin. “I regret displaying my ill temper, although it does disprove your false images of me.”

  Elcon stared at him. “You are fortunate to have a sister. Treat her well.”

  Drawn by the wistfulness in his voice, Shae imagined Elcon in his early days—an only child growing up fatherless and in the isolation that accompanies privilege. She should say something on Kai’s behalf. “I am fortunate to have a brother who guards my welfare with diligence.”